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His cold laugh feels like a thousand tiny knives shredding what’s left of my ego. “Aren’t you?”
My fingers tighten on the taco boat. All I’m trying to do is be nice and bless him with the best freaking tacos in Texas. And his lips—they’re smirking. Crushing my soul with every smarmy twinge.
A surge of rage bursts inside me. My mind blanks.
When it comes to, I’m lifting the tacos and dumping them on the prince’s wicked head. Shredded cheese, greasy ground meat, diced tomatoes, and green chili sauce cascade over him in slow motion. The ingredients that don’t catch in his beautiful hair settle in his shirt collar and shoulders.
A string of lettuce hangs from his nose.
“See,” I snarl, surprised at how unafraid I sound considering I feel like puking. “Delicious.” Then I march down the hill, sure every step I take will be my last. But, for once, the universe aligns in my favor, and the two professors take that moment to announce the field trip.
Professor Balefire gathers us around. I flock to the front before the members of the Six can reach me, my arms shaking.
A flash of dark hair draws my eye to the right. Kimber. Flat, normal teeth flash as her lips draw into a grin. “That was awesome.”
By the time Eclipsa rushes to me, Kimber has already left to join the Six on the outside of the crowd.
The Mythological Creatures instructor, Professor Balefire, and Potions and Poisons instructor, Professor Spreewell, stand around a wooden chest.
Professor Spreewell is the first to speak. “Inside this chest, we have class two weapons taken from the forbidden vault below the school. Every shadow will choose a weapon and two items they deem helpful.”
“What are the weapons for?” a lycan boy with golden eyes asks.
A Lunar Court Fae girl with one side of her head shaved adds, “And where are we going?”
Professor Balefire holds up a gloved hand. I try to focus on what he has to say rather than the large horns that curve around in spirals over his ears.
“We will be traveling to the Hemlock swamps situated deep in the Summer Court,” Balefire says as murmurs fill the air. “Shadows and their keepers will be paired together in duos. The first duo to come back through the portal with the white venom of a raverous snake wins the very special potions and creatures cup for their Court.”
Spreewell takes a golden cup trophy out of a purple bag. “Autumn Court was the last court to win. Let’s see who will take the cup this year.”
“One more thing,” Balefire calls, the crowd going quiet. “The Evermore are not allowed to use any magic. So, shadows, choose your weapon carefully. If you get into life-threatening trouble, say the words eros sanctum and a portal back here will appear.”
After that, Spreewell casts some sort of lottery spell, and our names are called in the order they’re drawn. I cringe when Reina’s named as the first shadow to select her weapon. She chooses the sword of flames. Its edge can cut through anything.
Her next two items are predictable: a net and a rat to entice the snake.
More names are called. A few Evermore like Eclipsa and Asher don’t have shadows, so they’re paired together for the challenge. Mack finds me just as Asher draws out a giant magical axe, a lovesick grin carved into his square jaw as he appraises his weapon.
“Is he going to chop off the snake’s head with that thing or sleep with it?” Mack teases, her gaze lingering on the dragon shifter.
I chuckle, but something weighs on my mind. “Hey, Mack. I thought the raverous snake was only found in a tiny swamp in the Spring Court?”
I clearly remember reading how rare the raverous snake is, their white venom harvested for powerful spells. My textbook said the only surviving wild snakes were in the northern region of the Spring Court.
Mack worries her bottom lip between her teeth. “It does seem strange.”
Evelyn gives a bored sigh. “Who cares? They obviously brought them in for the contest. Or maybe the snakes migrated.”
But I can’t get the thought out of my mind, and when my name is called, I think I’ve puzzled it out. Still, I don’t share my suspicions with the others as I peer into the chest. The chest has been spelled to have room for hundreds of weapons and items, each one visible when I look inside.
But, if I’m right about the snake, only one weapon will work. It’s hard to breathe as I reach for the small golden flute, nearly lost among the glint of steel blades.
If I’m wrong, the prince and I are totally screwed.
The moment the flute leaves the chest, Inara, who stands nearby with Bane and Reina, lets out a tittering laugh. “Someone tell her that’s a Leonidas flute; it only works on warm-blooded beasts like wolves.”
“Or lions,” I mutter, grabbing my last two items: a map, and a vial for the venom.
